


is that blood

by hrtbnr (kiden)



Series: still care about mixtapes [4]
Category: Cow Chop
Genre: Close call, Fake Chop, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 09:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14234055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiden/pseuds/hrtbnr
Summary: "There’s been a running joke over the years about Aleks’ deathwish, and James has even laughed along on occasion, but it’s difficult to find the humor in it when it shows up for real."





	is that blood

**Author's Note:**

> i like close call/first time stories so i don't know what to tell you. anyway the prompt was "is that blood?" but no one actually says that in this story. i do whatever i want tbh
> 
> im genuinely sorry bc i don't know what this is but i am certain i've already written it

The bay door makes a loud, reverberating sound when James shoves Aleks against it, hissing as the back of his head and shoulders connect hard with the metal. James can sort of hear Brett and Lindsey shouting at him, but it’s muffled and distant, feels directed at someone else and doesn’t concern him. It’s difficult to care about their fucking ire when it’s Aleks they should be angry with.

There’s been a running joke over the years about Aleks’ deathwish, and James has even laughed along on occasion, but it’s difficult to find the humor in it when it shows up for real. If Aleks wants to die James can make it happen. Feels like he _wants_ to, looking at him slumped against the door but still defiant and stubborn, eyebrows drawn together and staring at James like he’s daring him to start something. James can feel his heart beating, his breathing heavy and painful, and he wants to. 

Aleks doesn’t break eye contact as he says to Brett, “It’s alright, dude. Let him throw a fucking fit.” 

His fist connects with the bay door, right beside Aleks’ smug face, before James even realizes he’s going to throw a punch. Aleks doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move at all besides how he tilts his chin up, the lines of his face tightening. It feels like _losing_ , somehow. A feeling that’s confirmed when Aleks huffs out an unamused laugh, his mouth twisted like its got something ugly to say. 

There’s no way Aleks could’ve known the gun at his head was out of bullets. No way he could’ve counted them with all the shots being fired around them. James watched as he slid across the bank floor on his knees, the security guard whipping around and pressing the barrel right against Aleks’ forehead and _pulling the trigger_ a split-second before Aleks brought his hand up, stabbing him in the gut. There’s no way James could’ve heard the empty _click_ of it, but it’s ringing in his ears anyway. 

His cheek is twitching and his body is aching and Aleks is still looking at him, and all at once, James is exhausted. It’s an argument they’ve had a hundred fucking times if they’ve had it once, and it never goes anywhere. There’s no way to get it through Aleks’ thick fucking head there’s a difference between doing stupid, dangerous shit and _playing it_ like a goddamn idiot. 

He looks terrible. Paler than usual and bruised across his jaw, the rings around his eyes so dark they might as well be bruises too. There’s blood on his hands, soaked through the shoulder of his shirt, and in his hair from running his fingers through it nervously. 

“Are you bleeding?” 

That’s what gets Aleks to finally look away, banging his head back against the door and sighing out a few breathy, hysterical sounds almost like laughter. 

“No,” he says, now seemingly unable to look James in the eye. There’s some satisfaction in that, but not a whole lot. “None of it’s mine.” 

James doesn’t respond. He turns away instead, grabbing his keys, sweatshirt, and tucking his gun on the table back into his jeans. The anger that turned into exhaustion is turning into something else, crawling up his chest and wrapping around his throat. And if he’s going to have a fucking _panic attack_ , he’s not going to do it in front of any of these motherfuckers. 

“I don’t give a shit about the money. I don’t fucking want it. Divide it up.”

No one says anything or stops him from leaving. And James doesn’t look back at any of them, especially not at Aleks, who’s fucked up and bloody and still alive, despite his very best efforts. Aleks, who James can’t think about but is the only thing on his mind during the drive home. There’s no way he’s found to convince himself that Aleks isn’t _different_. They’ve all done risky shit on jobs, they all should be dead by now, and James knows that. Maybe Aleks’ jokes are just jokes and James is barreling through, blowing it all out of proportion. How many times as he seen Brett pull the same kind of shit? Or Lindsey? How many times has he himself almost died, running on instinct in the heat of it? 

He’s only parked in his driveway for five minutes, head against the steering wheel, trying to remember how to breathe, when Aleks is pulling open the door of his car and yanking him out of it. James catches the red in his hair, the purple line of his jaw, just for a second, before Aleks throws his fist at him. It hits his shoulder, and Aleks is holding back but it still sends James sideways against the car. 

“What the _fuck_?” 

“Don’t be such a fucking _bitch_ ,” Aleks spits, rounding on James as he straightens himself out. “You got something to say, say it. Stop walking the fuck away from me.”

He’s _angry_ in a way James hasn’t seen in years. The real kind that was all he was made out of when James first met _Immortal_. Aleks wears it like a suit, or a mask, like he can hide behind it, but that didn’t work on _Nova_ when they met and doesn’t work on James now either. All it does is crystalize the messy thoughts in his head until his eyes start burning and the tension in his back loosens and, after all this time, he finds the point where everything breaks. 

Aleks is startled and takes a step back at the hand that presses against his wounded jaw, but James catches him with the other hand by his hip and closes the distance between them. Maybe he’s not allowed to kiss him, so James doesn’t, but he pulls Aleks closer as he moves forward. Makes it so they’re breathing the same air, until his forehead is pressed to Aleks’ where the gun had been a little over an hour ago. His eyes are closed but he knows Aleks’ are open. Can feel the change in his breathing against his own chest, breath warm and uneven against James’ mouth. 

He’s a fucking statue until suddenly he’s not, the thing that broke inside of James breaking inside Aleks too, and then his hands are everywhere. Fingers curled in James’ hoodie, letting go to grab at his back, holding him close, his still bloody hand pressed against the nape of James’ neck, his cheek, heavy on his hips. It’s _endearing_ , in a way, Aleks not knowing what part of James to touch first, unsure where to start or how. 

His frantic hands figure out what to do when James kisses him. They move around his shoulders, wrapping up around him tightly, and Aleks opens his mouth immediately and makes a tiny wrecked noise that has James kissing him harder. Standing in the driveway, there’s no wall to push Aleks against, but James grabs his ass and low on his back and pushes forward, wanting Aleks’ legs around him, desperate for him to make that little noise again. 

Aleks breaks away, panting, flushed and glassy-eyed, and says, “You’re an asshole. You’re such a fucking asshole. I hate you.” 

“Okay, yeah, _we’re_ assholes. We’re assholes,” James mostly manages to say between the fast, dirty kisses Aleks is pressing to his mouth. 

“Fucking - can we go inside? What the fuck. What the _fuck?_ ” he _whines_ , in that way he does sometimes. The way James is never going to be able to hear again without thinking of this moment, when Aleks says, “Unless you want to fuck me in your driveway?”

Honestly, he sort of does. But he grabs Aleks’ face between his hands and keeps kissing him as he walks him backward towards the apartment. When he hits the door, Aleks arches, moves like he’s going get his fucking legs around James’ waist, and James has to pull back to reluctantly stop him. His head resting on Aleks’ shoulder, he fumbles with his keys, trying to figure out how to unlock the stupid fucking door when his entire brain is focused on Aleks kissing his neck and the warm, promising touch of his tongue. 

When James gets the door open they both stumble inside, just managing to close and lock it behind them before Aleks’ hands dart forward to work open his jeans. It hurts to do it, but James grabs Aleks’ wrists and stops him, shaking his head, a _”don’t”_ pushing out from behind his teeth, mostly air. The way Aleks’ face drops is a nightmare, his eyes wide and confused and mouth moving over a hundred questions but unable to settle on any of them. 

“No, no,” James whispers quickly, putting his hands on him again, bringing them close. “You - we gotta wash up, dude. I can’t - it’s our first - I don’t want to think about almost losing you every time I remember finally getting you.” 

Aleks exhales roughly, looking up towards the ceiling like there’s someone up there who could help him deal with James. It’s not the first time he’s done it, and probably not the last. “Jesus Christ, dude. You fucking - and then just said the most romantic shit.”

“Was that romantic?” James laughs, rubbing his thumb over the unbruised side of Aleks’ jaw. 

The look Aleks gives him is filled with pity but _fond_ , like he’s waiting for him to catch up, and he says, very softly, “James,” and presses a kiss high on his cheek. 

And it’s not until Aleks’ head is tipped forward as he washes the blood from his hair, James dropping needy, impatient little kisses to his bare shoulder, that he gets it. His arm slips around Aleks’ waist and hugs him against his chest. Lips at the back of Aleks’ neck, he says, “You thought it was only a one-time special offer.”

Aleks stills, says, “I’ll take as much time as I can get, yo.” 

James smiles and lets one of his hands wander to find Aleks’ and intertwine their fingers. “Then I got some good news.”


End file.
